Our Lands
by JediKnightBalthasar
Summary: Young and curious, Estel discovers who his is a little premature. Before he can deal with what he's learned, an Elf comes to Imladris with a young girl to whom Estel is mysteriously drawn. But why? And what's made her how she is? *COMPLETE*
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Tolkien owns all.  
  
Summary: Young and curious, Estel discovers his identity a little early, and a newcomer teaches his a few things about Gondor.  
  
****************************  
  
"Estel, not now," Elladan said, shooing the teen away.  
  
"But you said you'd help me--" the human began to protest, but was cut off.  
  
"Things have changed, I have something to do. Now, go on and find something to do. I'll help you with the numbers and formulas later."  
  
"All right, Elladan," the dejected boy submitted, and left his brother's room.  
  
Not knowing what else to do, he went down to the river and trailed his toes in the water, struggling to grasp the formulas on the pages in front of him. The letters and numbers seemed to dance around, taunting him. Angry, the insecure boy heaved the book as hard as he could, happy to hear the heavy thud as the book hit a tree across the river. At least he could throw better than either of the twins could.  
  
"Estel." Immediately the boy realized what he had done, and blushed. Hearing his name brought him back from his blind rage. "Go get the book," Elrond told him. Estel did as he was told, and handed the book to Elrond. The condition of the book wasn't very good, but it would still do for Estel's studies. "Do you care to explain yourself?"  
  
"No," an angry, angsty, rebelious Estel said, gazing at the grass. How could he explain to the elf? It wasn't that he didn't respect the scholars who had written down all the things in the book, but he didn't see why *he* had to learn it.  
  
"I know it is difficult, Estel, but you must learn these things. They will have great baring on your future," a somewhat hurt Elrond consoled in a detached manner.  
  
"Yes, sir," Estel said, digging up the grass with his toes, his momentary flare of anger dissipated. He trudged back up to Imaldris, feeling despondent. It was all because of that dumb book!  
  
As he passed by Elladan's room he paused, hearing his name. "Do you think he'll ever do it?" Elrohir was asking.  
  
"When he learns who he is, it will change his attitude, I am sure," responded Elrohir. Estel took in a slow breath. Who he was? Who was he? "What was that?"  
  
Estel started, and hurried off down the corridor. He slipped into his own room, shut the door, and sank onto the bed. The curiousity that chewed daily at his brain had, as if an anesthetic had worn off, gone from a dull ache to a roaring pain. Now he had more questions than ever about his past, and he was more determined than ever to answer them. And he knew just when to do it.  
  
**********  
  
Estel plastered himself against the wall. Despite the fact that Elrond and the twins were eating dinner, he was still afraid to be caught. He was just 12 yards from Elrond's study, and desperate to reach it. He glanced to his left, to his right, took a deep breath, and ran on tiptoes to the study door. Pushing the door open, he slithered inside.  
  
"All right, where is it?" he said quietly through his teeth. Stealthily he slid open Elrond's drawers and sorted through them, careful to leave things as he found them. The teenager felt time slipping away, despite the fact that he had nearly half an hour left he thought he had only minutes. Finally he came across just what he needed.  
  
A pang of guilt shot through the youth's chest. He didn't feel right opening a letter that belonged to the man who had been his father. "No! You've always wondered, you've got what you want now. This is no time to back down!" he gave himself a quick pep-talk, and finally removed the old paper from its envelope.  
  
**********  
  
Estel had been staring at the words for far too long. Now he heard voices coming towards him. His head jerked up sharply, and he began to panic. Replacing the letter back into the envelope, he shoved back where it belonged and stood innocently as Elrond and Elladan entered.  
  
"Estel?" asked Elrond.  
  
"I--I--I--" Frantically, he scanned his brain. He found nothing, but words tumbled out anyway. "I'm sorry for the way I acted earlier. It was immature of me and I'll try not to do that sort of thing in the future." He meant it, too.  
  
"Well," Elrond seemed pleased with this. "It's quite all right, Estel so long as you know what you've done wrong. Now, go on off to bed."  
  
Estel was all too pleased to obey. He flew down the hall, rushed into his room, and got into bed, burying his head in the pillow. He couldn't believe what he'd read. He was Isildur's heir!  
  
  
  
  
  
So, how was that chapter? I promise, it'll get better, but only if you review! Flames are always welcome. 


	2. Feanor

Disclaimer: I own nothing  
  
To my reviewers: First, thank you all so much for reading.  
  
Smeagol: Yay! You cured my writer's block! And do not be so hasty to deal out judgment and shame. Thanks for reading and see you tomorrow!  
  
HobbitsRFun: It's not really supposed to be humor. Am I that bad of a writer?!?! Just kidding. At least someone read it!  
  
Arabella Thorne: Yeah, I thought he was a little too collected usually. I'm glad you liked it!  
  
Chica79: Yeah, they are the best. Hehe. Good luck with yours! Here's another chapter for ya!  
  
**********  
  
Estel stared at the water, hard. He challenged it, threatening it. "You can't hurt me! I can conquer you!" yet at the same time, fear coursed through his veins. He couldn't conquer the water, because if he got too close the water would see him, and show him who he was. Who was he? He was a terrible boy who was heir to a man who kept the greatest evil, he was a boy who had lied to and deceived the person who had cared for him as a father. He was a boy with no purpose.  
  
"You cannot defeat me!" Yet the fear remained, and hatred of self, despite his brave words, and his voice began to waver. What of Isildur? Isildur had fail, failed to destroy the ring--even if it was gone now (as Estel believed it was), it was his line that had failed then. He was as weak as Isildur, as fearful, as *human*.  
  
Angry now, he stood, and began to walk through the dale. He kicked at the dirt under his callused bare feet. The moist mud splattered his ankles and legs, sticking firmly to him. He looked longingly now to the stream, where he could wash off the mud, but did not go to it.  
  
"Why was I born to this fate, this weakness?" he wondered aloud. "Why couldn't Isildur have done it then, just been rid of the thing? Will I ever rule Gondor? No, I cannot--will not--rule. I have weakness in my blood. I would drive land to ruin." An image flashed in his mind, an image of a beautiful city of peace burning, and him holding a torch repeating an apology.  
  
"Never will I see Gondor again!" He swore, stabbing his sword into the ground. "I will make up for my ancestor's failure--I will NOT drive the area to ruin! Let any man challenge me if he will, I will die before I kill!"  
  
As if in answer, a thundering of hooves was heard. Horses approached the boy, and fast. His heart raced and his eyes got wide, his pupils tiny. By the time the riders came into view, he was so scared that he saw many riders, not just two, mounted together. He jumped, flattening himself against the nearest tree.  
  
"Hello? Excuse me?" an urgent voice asked. Estel looked up to see a young elf, still mounted, directly in front of him. She stared at him, her black hair framing her face and her black eyes warmly passionate. "Can you show me the way to Imaldris?"  
  
"Yes," answered Estel in a tiny, frightened squeak.  
  
"Please, this child need medicine, help me!" demanded the elven maiden, and Estel noticed that the bundle in front of her was a girl, a human, maybe eight years old.  
  
"There! Up the glen!" He pointed, shrinking back to the trees.  
  
"How far? Hurry!"  
  
"I don't--I don't--"  
  
"Then get up onto the horse with us. Don't worry about the horse, I am light and this girl is nearly starved." Estel hesitated, then quickly mounted and took the reins, his arms running around the young elf's waist. He guided the horse steadily to Imaldris. Something was making him fond of the young girl, a familiar essence, but an elusive one. As soon as he had pulled the horse to a stop, the elf was off, taking the young human girl with her. He stared after her, then took the horse to the stables.  
  
**********  
  
Estel had taken only a few minutes to have the horse fed and find the elf again. She was with Elrond, talking about the human child. Estel knocked on the door before barging in.  
  
"Estel, please wait outside."  
  
"Sorry," Estel said, sick of being rejected--or at least, feeling that way. He sighed and leaned next to the closed door. Without realizing it, he heard parts of Elrond's conversation with the elf.  
  
"I'm sorry about the boy," Elrond said, and the girl shrugged it off. "About this girl."  
  
The elf responded, in a lower voice, "She's been. . .Gondor. . .back. . .sickening. . .help her, Ada?" The fragments confounded Estel, but he didn't forget one word. Gondor, that was his city! No, it wasn't, it was the city he could never see. What was wrong with the girl, though? He wanted her to be all right, for some reason he cared deeply for her wounds to heal. Wounds? Did she have wounds?  
  
Estel slumped into a sitting position, his back against the wall. For many hours he sat, curious as to what was going on behind the door. He heard movement, footsteps and hushed voices. His eyelids began to droop but still he remained. Finally, he heard Elrond tell the elf, "She'll be all right, in a few days' time."  
  
Estel jumped to his feet, wide-awake, as Elrond and the elf maiden came out of the room. Elrond looked surprised, maybe a little angry but definitely surprised. "Estel, what in all of Middle Earth are you doing out here?"  
  
"You said wait outside. How is she? Is she all right?" he demanded. He couldn't think of anything until he knew how she was, if he knew he could sleep and eat and if not, he could die.  
  
"She will recover," the elven maiden said, stepping forward. "Your name is Estel then." It was not a question. She offered her hand. He took it. "I wish we could have met under better circumstances."  
  
"So do I, Nameless One."  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry. I am Arwen. Elrond is my father, but I have been living with my grandmother in the woods of Lothlorien. That is why you have never seen me before around here."  
  
"I see," said Estel.  
  
"Estel, perhaps you should rest," suggested Elrond, recognizing all the signs in the young human. "The young human girl may have recovered by the time you wake up."  
  
Estel headed to his room, but turned back sleepily. "She *will* be all right?"  
  
"Of course."  
  
***********  
  
For two days, Estel stood outside the mysterious girl's door. He was not yet allowed in, to see her, but still felt an urge to watch over her. He knew--and Elladan and Elrohir often reminded him--that no harm would come to her in Imaldris. Still, the boy waited.  
  
On the second day, he heard a new voice. It muttered weakly, and Arwen answered in soothing whispers. This exchange gave him faith that he would soon meet the youngster. When Arwen came out of the room afterwards, she turned to him.  
  
"When she is stronger--"  
  
"Please, I must see her!" Estel begged. He had hardly moved for sleep, food, or any other reason for those days, and soon he, too would be Arwen's patient. He told her so.  
  
"Very well, I shall go and speak to her. If I tell you--only if I tell you-- you may come in. If I tell you no, get to your bed and rest. Agreed?"  
  
"You needn't look out for me. Agreed." Estel crossed his arms over his chest as Arwen disappeared back into the room. Again, he heard the hushed voices, and then Arwen came back out, looking a bit grumpy.  
  
"I do not think it in her best interest, but she will see you. She will not tell us her name, but we call her Feanor, in your language it means spirit of fire."  
  
"May I ask why?" Estel asked, careful with his words around this feisty creature.  
  
"Because anything short of that and the flame would not have been rekindled. Go on then," she said, jerking her head. "Not to long, either, she's still weak." Estel strode through the door into the room. The girl, Feanor, sat on the bed in a white gown, her knees folded under her. She was very pale and sweaty. Her dark hair hung in strands and clumps around her face, her sunken eyes aged and careful guarded. Estel imagined he could see her organs she was so thin.  
  
"Please," she said, staring at the floor, "don't look at me, sir." Estel focused instead on the floor, as the girl did.  
  
"Are you all right?" he inquired, fearing if he spoke too loud the fragile child would shatter.  
  
"They say I will heal," her tiny voice answered.  
  
"How--how old are you?"  
  
"Twelve, sir. I'll be thirteen soon." Her voice wavered. Twelve? She hardly looked eight! Estel wondered why she kept calling him 'sir'. He nearly asked, but decided instead to leave her alone, so she could rest.  
  
"I--I'll leave you alone so you can sleep," he said, realizing how much like Elrond he sounded. He found he could not tear his eyes away from the child, so backed away until he had reached the door, and then slithered out. Once he could no longer see her, he turned.  
  
"Are you all right, Estel? You do not look well," Elrond observed. In truth, the boy's face was nearly as pale as the girl's had been, though a bit green, and as sweaty.  
  
"She's--she's--she's--"  
  
"I know, it frightens us all to see children like that."  
  
"What happened to her?" Estel managed. "Who did that to her?" His anger was rising again. "Whoever it was--"  
  
"No, Estel," Elrond said, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder. "You must not seek revenge. What was done to her is truly sick, yes, and when she is ready she will tell you everything. Until that time, only Arwen and I will know." Estel began to protest, but again Elrond cut him off. "Do not be so hasty to hear this story, Estel, for it is her deepest secret, and when she does tell you, you will wish you did not know."  
  
***********  
  
That night, as he tried to sleep, Estel thought over Elrond's words. 


	3. reading

Disclaimer: I own nothing  
  
Arabella Thorne: Yes, I appreciate your questions. However, if you want the answers, you have to keep reading! ; )  
  
**********  
  
"Lady Arwen--" Feanor began.  
  
"Just Arwen, please," Arwen corrected. Arwen had gotten used to the girl's manner, but it chilled her.  
  
"Sorry. I was only wondering. . .the boy who came to see me, why doesn't he come anymore? Did I do something wrong?" Feanor's lower lip trembled, and she chewed on it. Arwen was sad just looking at this girl's weak state. It had been nearly two weeks, and Arwen knew the girl would heal, but she feared the time it would take.  
  
"No, Estel's just. . .honestly, every day he waits outside the door. I tell him he can't see you, so he won't disturb you," not a total lie. Every day he did stand outside, but Arwen told him he could go in--and he refused.  
  
"Oh. Well, if he wants to. . .I mean, I wouldn't mind it if he were to. . .it wouldn't bother me, that is, if he said hello once in a while," Feanor tried not to contradict Arwen, and Arwen smiled.  
  
"I will tell him," she agreed. She saw how much Feanor wanted him to come.  
  
**********  
  
"Where is that miserable human?"  
  
"Arwen," Elrond said, half-warning.  
  
"Where is Estel?" Arwen asked, more composed.  
  
"Practicing with his sword, most likely," Elrond answered. "Why do you seek him?"  
  
"Feanor asks of him. He tells me he is drawn to her, and I know he often guards her door, yet he cannot go in and face her." Arwen sighed.  
  
"He has been acting strangely lately, I'll admit. Ever since that night I found him in my study he's been rather quiet and angry, and generally unhappy."  
  
"Well, whatever it is, he won't hurt this girl. I won't stand for it." Arwen made a motion with her hands, to emphasize the point.  
  
"Then you are going to tell him?"  
  
"No, Ada, it wouldn't be right."  
  
"Very well. This girl is under your care, as I said before, but think before you act--you know what she's been through."  
  
**********  
  
"Estel! There you are!" Arwen had managed to find him at last, outside Feanor's door. She kept her voice at a whisper, in case the child was asleep.  
  
"Hello, Arwen." He leaned against the wall. Something kept him coming here. He still feared the girl, the look in her eyes, yet he felt as though he had to protect her. From what, he didn't know, but he did need to look out for her.  
  
"You have to go to her," Arwen said. She usually kept herself from mortals, but this girl. . .she pitied the girl, and somehow wished her well. Estel was hurting her by staying away, the girl thought of the two as friends! "I need to go see my father. You had best go and speak with her."  
  
Estel stood for a minute, then forced himself to move. Feanor was sitting cross-legged on the bed. She still looked like a wraith, but far less pale and skinny. She was beginning to look human. As soon as she saw him, her face lit up.  
  
"I thought you forgot about me," she admitted.  
  
"Oh, I couldn't," he said, though at times he wished he could. She haunted his dreams. What was wrong with her? Why was she so like that? Why would no one tell him? He twisted the object in his hands. Looking down, he saw that it was the book of fables he had thought Feanor would like.  
  
"Here," he said, holding the book out to her, "I think you'll enjoy reading this." She took the book nervously. She hardly breathed as she turned the pages, lingering on the illustrations, then setting it down.  
  
"Thank you," she said quietly. Something was wrong, though. She wouldn't look at Estel, and kept her head bowed--even more so than usual.  
  
"Can you read?" Estel asked. Feanor shook her head. "No?" he was shocked. "Is that common in Gondor? Arwen did say you were from Gondor, right?"  
  
"I am from Gondor."  
  
"I heard that there was no illiteracy there. Would you like me to teach you?"  
  
"Very much," Feanor said, nodding. Estel left to get something to write on so he could begin easily--with the alphabet. Feanor was a quick learner. She copied every letter he drew with an uncanny defiance in her manner. Within an hour, she was reading shorter words, and stumbling with the longer ones.  
  
"Can we stop now?" she asked after a while. "I'm sorry but I'm just a bit tired--"  
  
"It's fine," Estel said. "Don't apologize. We can work on it tomorrow, or whenever you're ready."  
  
"Thank you." Estel was gathering the papers on the floor, with sloppy letters drawn on them, and by the time he had made a neat stack, Feanor was asleep. She had curled into a ball with one arm around her neck protectively, and the other over her face. Estel stopped and stared. Something was wrong with this girl.  
  
Slowly, Estel pulled the girl under the blankets. With the warmth, he hoped she might relax. She didn't. He couldn't see how she got any rest with her muscles ready to spring. He would have to do something for her.  
  
Again, Estel was surprised. He had never felt this close to anyone, this protective. This new sensation made him uneasy. What would happen if he failed?  
  
  
  
  
  
A/N: Okay, feedback please! I really need to know what people think and if you have any guesses about what is happening to Feanor. Also, should I put in more soft moments between the two or a big clue to her past in the next chapter? Thanx! ~Balthasar 


	4. The more things change, the more they st...

Dreamcathcer: What in four hells is TTFN? And plenty of my stuff has the Elf with the Hair in it. I LIKE Arwen. I know, I'm a total minority--even mr. Graham pretended to gag today when I told him about the movie. Which reminds me of this brilliant trick I'll have to tell you about. Feel better! (presuming that's why you were absent)  
  
Empress Sasami: Thanx for reading and I can finally check out yours--yes! Internet is back on my computer!  
  
Arabella Thorne: I've tried to put her thoughts in this chapter. Also, Estel feels no attraction towards her, just a sort of desire to protect her.  
  
To all my readers: Sorry it took so long for me to update. My computer didn't have internet for a while so I couldn't post anything. But I am back!  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing (except a very tattered copy of LotR)  
  
*****  
  
It had been a while since Estel had seen much of the twins. That was why it was such a big surprise to him when, as he sulked down a corridor deep in resentful thought, a bucket of milk toppled down and drenched him. For a moment he just blinked, stunned, then he heard laughter and noticed Elladan and Elrohir a bit farther down the corridor. "You know, Estel, that's not what Ada meant when he said to wash your hair," Elladan called.  
  
Elrohir was doubled over in silent laughter. "You should've seen your face! You looked so shocked--so utterly surprised--"  
  
"Not utterly, brother," Elladan corrected, "udder-ly!" The two cracked up at the terrible pun. Estel's face broke out in a giant grin. He hadn't wrestled with the twins in far too long.  
  
"I'll show you surprise!" He shrieked, bolting towards the two elves. They straightened up at once, and began to run away from the vicious human-- mostly to keep the milk off their own clothes, but in good humor as well. It didn't take long for Elladan to turn the tables, after Estel rubbed his milky hands through Elladan's hair. Estel ran as fast as he could, giggling uncontrollably. Elladan screamed, threatening to gruesomely murder the boy.  
  
"Estel, I will hang your intestines from the highest tree--make an umbrella of your skin and--" Elladan gasped for breath as he called to the human, whose adrenaline alone kept him safe. Of course, the real threat was a great lot of tickling and perhaps getting knocked to the ground a few times.  
  
"Elladan!" Elrohir called, not so sure of whether or not his twin spoke the truth. "Don't hurt him! He's just a scrawny little human!" Elrohir couldn't resist teasing, just a little.  
  
"I may be human but at least I'm not ugly!" Estel's childish taunts brought only laughter and more threats from the older boys. Finally, Elladan pounced, forcing Estel to the ground. The two wrestled, Estel finally catching Elladan in a headlock--only to be thrown off and mercilessly tickled. Elrohir had begun to torture the boy as well, when Estel suddenly stopped laughing or even smiling. The twins followed his gaze to the doorway.  
  
"Feanor--" She turned and ran.  
  
*****  
  
Estel was at a loss as far as Feanor went. He would not pry, nor ask her what was wrong, because this would most likely prompt distrust. He could teach her no more about reading--she already surpassed him. Finally, he decided to teach her an art she would find quite handy--the sword.  
  
"Weilding it gives you a sense of respect for the blade. If you can understand what this thing can do, you'll know what I mean," Estel said, curling Feanor's fingers around the hilt. He hadn't noticed before how callused and chapped her hands were. Seeing it now, he wanted to stop and ask about them, to never touch her hands again--yet he didn't. Feanor swung the blade lightly. "Only if you're sure you want to learn this."  
  
"I'm sure," she said, transfixed. Honestly the sword frightened her, but Estel wanted her to learn. He had been so nice to her--nicer than anyone else she had ever met. Even Arwen, who tried so hard to be distant, was kind to her. Feanor appreciated everything they did for her, the time they spent trying to help her when she had come to Rivendell so injured, Estel teaching her to write and read. She hoped she could do something in return. Tearing her eyes away from the blade, she looked at him. He cringed under her gaze, then took his up his blade and began to teach her.  
  
*****  
  
"He had better not hurt her," Arwen said, with a touch of anger.  
  
"Oh?" Elrond responded, slightly amused at Arwen's threat. "This from my daughter who will never be close to a mortal?" He remembered Arwen vowing, a few hundred years ago, that no man or woman born to death could touch her heart. It had not bothered him at the time, she was young, and that still applied.  
  
"I am not close to her! Just because I know how hard a time she's had. . .how hard her life's been. . .that doesn't mean I feel any compassion towards her," Arwen swallowed tears as she said this, recalling what had happened to the girl.  
  
"Just because she is afraid to show any emotion or warmth toward anyone does not mean she has a cold heart," Elrond gently reminded his daughter. Perhaps he would've been just as biased towards mortals had it not been for Estel.  
  
"She is human. They are all cold and doomed to die."  
  
"You never did tell me what happened before you brought the girl here."  
  
"Not much. She was found by a hunting party, half-dead already. Galadrial said you would be the only one who could heal her. I offered to bring her." Arwen sighed. "Maybe with another human here she will feel safe."  
  
"Despite what humans did to her?"  
  
"Estel's not from Gondor." Arwen studied her father's face. "What aren't you telling me?"  
  
"Estel is more than from Gondor. Estel is the king of Gondor."  
  
"He is Aragorn?" She was startled. Him, Estel, the stupid boy with the sword and overgrown insecurity complex? "And he knows?"  
  
"No, and you must not tell him. When he is ready to accept it I will tell him who he is."  
  
"Do you think he'll go back?"  
  
"I cannot honestly say. The boy seems nearly as troubled as Feanor."  
  
"They're perfect for each other," Arwen said sarcastically, fearing she was getting closer to these mortals.  
  
*****  
  
Estel took Feanor down to the river as soon as Elrond said she was well enough. He still feared that river--he had not seen his reflection in ages, it seemed, and the river's glassy surface would've been a perfect mirror. Feanor, somewhat reluctant, followed Estel down to the water.  
  
She would not touch the water, either. She sat at its edge, pulling up weeds and running her hands through the grass. Estel sat a bit farther back, hugging his knees. If he sat by her, would he see himself? As Feanor continued to pull up weeds, Estel thought. He wondered if anyone knew who he was. He knew Elrond did--and why had Elrond hidden it from him? Why hadn't Elrond just flat-out said that Estel was not his son? Did Elrond want him to feel this way, raw and alone? Surely the boys knew--he had called them brother, and they had lied. Now he felt open to everything, as if every eye stood to judge him. Only his concern for Feanor kept him from alienating every being.  
  
Estel, wrapped up in thought, did not notice when Feanor picked up the book of numbers and such in front of him, along with his work. He had nearly forgotten about everything until Feanor's voice brought him back to Middle Earth. "This isn't right. Look," she circled something.  
  
He took the book and work from her. "You have studied maths?" He was hardly grasping this, how could it be that such a young girl understood it without tutorial? He only meant to inquire, but she seemed to shrink from him in fear.  
  
"I--I only meant to tell you--I didn't mean an insult--"  
  
"Feanor, please. It's all right, I was just amazed. You're brilliant."  
  
"I'm not really," she said, again pulling weeds.  
  
"You are. You're a genius." She didn't look up, but he could see her flush with pride. He didn't push the point, not to her, but he did not forget her reaction. Why was she afraid to correct him? Why was she reluctant to be special?  
  
*****  
  
"Something is amazing about Feanor," Estel said.  
  
"What?" Elrond asked.  
  
"It isn't impossible for mortals to be amazing," Estel said. "She is. She could teach me to do all the maths you insist I learn. And she has never studied. What are the schools in Gondor that she has neither studied nor been identified?"  
  
"I know not how answer your question, but to say that she will tell you when she is ready."  
  
"When will she be ready?"  
  
"You know well, Estel: that is up to her to decide. As for you, I presume you are prepared for tonight?"  
  
"Tonight? Oh, that! I had completely forgotten." With bigger things on his mind, Estel had forgotten that the Steward of Gondor was coming to visit Elrond. "Must I--?"  
  
"Estel," Elrond warned.  
  
"Must Feanor, then?"  
  
"Yes, both you and Feanor are expected to attend the feast. She is well enough, now."  
  
"Very well." Estel walked out, his shoulders hunched and his muscles taught. As he left, Arwen entered. Elrond sighed.  
  
"What did he want?" Arwen asked.  
  
"If you must know, he has found some genius in his protégé," Elrond replied.  
  
"Are you sure it is wise to have the girl meet Denethor (sp?)?" Arwen asked.  
  
"I think it may do her some good to see that not all mortals are bad people. I have met Denethor and he is a good person. Though I cannot say the same for his son. . ."  
  
"You have not met the son or do not like him?" Arwen inquired, amused, and well aware of the answer to her question.  
  
"Can't stand the boy. He seems to think the world rotates on his fingertips."  
  
Arwen raised an eyebrow. "Both of them are coming, are they not? How will you endure them?"  
  
"The younger boy is bookish and kind, the elder. . .perhaps will be less insufferable with faux mirth."  
  
*****  
  
Alone in his room, Estel wanted to cry. More than anything, he wanted to break something, throw things. He wanted to scream like an angry child. He wanted to take all the rage inside him and stab it out with a knife. Instead, he wrote names of people who had hurt him on pieces of parchment (a/n: what else would they write on? Anyone know?) and tore them, then cast them into a fire. This did little good for him.  
  
"Estel?" a soft voice called, accompanying a knock on his door. He grinned to know that his "brother" was locked out. Finally, something made him feel good. Then, just as sudden as his feelings of hate had come on, tears sprung to his eyes. Wasn't Elladan his brother? Hadn't Elladan chased him down a million halls, a million death threats pending? And what about Elrohir? Hadn't he always been there to make sure nothing actually did happen once Elladan had Estel pinned to the ground?  
  
"G-go away!" He coughed out, trying to separate words and mangled sobs.  
  
"Estel, please, I don't--" Elladan's voice was soft, open but not raw. Estel didn't want someone to be nice to him just then.  
  
"Elladan, please!" Estel could hardly hold back his sobs as he tried to think of a good enough lie. "I'm changing for the feast."  
  
"It's not for another three hours, Estel, and you know you're supposed to wash up first." Great, just great! Hearing Elladan's voice was enough to make him cry, a taunt about hygiene was really required! Estel sarcastic coldness again brought on a new wave of tears. "Estel, I'm sorry, really. Listen, I don't know what's bothering you but I do care. You know I do, and Elrohir. We're your brothers, Estel--"  
  
"Go away!" Estel roared. He wasn't Estel--that was not his name. And he had no hope--he brought no hope. And he had no brothers. Elladan backed away, offended, as Estel buried his face in his pillow and cried.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Well? Any opinions? Was it good? Was it bad? Any ideas as to what happened to Feanor? Is anyone even reading this? 


	5. Gondor in Rivendell

Disclaimer: I own nothing  
  
Emmithar: He's not ALWAYS getting into stuff that doesn't belong to him, he was an amateur. He's supposed to be sixteen. I know he didn't meet Arwen for a few more years but hey, he isn't supposed to know who he is yet, either. I'm not too good at following rules. You'll learn what happened and who did it to her, in good time. Meaning when Estel does. Why. . .you'll learn that, too. I promise you, Feanor will not die in this story. I mean, she IS mortal, so eventually she will die, but not as a thirteen-year-old. Much older, I promise. I swear on Legolas's life? Elrond. . .hmm, what does he say about those gruesome threats? I'll add that in later. Elladan was joking, of course. Ah, good guess for Feanor! Wrong, but good guess. I read "A Child Called It" and the following books--I got them in London, I had had nothing to read in Ireland and was starved for literature and had just gotten back to England. The only books at the airport (very, very small airport) that weren't trashy or boring-looking were those books. SOHCAHTOA. I do like Estel, and Arwen explains a bit in this chapter why she dislikes humans.  
  
Is this soon enough, or should I cower in fear?  
  
Lotholien: No, Feanor doesn't know anything about Estel, but--no, I won't spoil the BIG SURPRISE for you. Heh heh heh. . .no, the title's not from Star Trek Deep Space 9, I don't watch or like Star Trek.  
  
JavaGlxy: Such a warm welcome! Right on, everyone does need someone. The next chapter, however, shows that you have more people to rely on than you usually think. You'll see. I do like Boromir--I like all of them. Even Arwen and Denethor, despite what he says in this chapter. I hope you'll tell me if this chapter is up to scratch?  
  
Smeagol: I'm sorry, Fitz (and thus the ihp) do not yet exist. Feanor is quite alone--but no, she has Estel, doesn't she? She's sort of like a six- year-old, she learns incredibly quickly. There's a reason for Arwen's attitude. I'm sorry to make you want to cry. You know what a melodramatic sap I am.  
  
*****  
  
Hot tears poured out of Estel's eyes. Warm, salty pools formed on the pillow, filling themselves with a boy's sorrows and then overflowing. He didn't know how long he cried for, muffling his sobs, and he didn't care. When he could cry no more, his eyes itched and his throat felt raw. He hardly paid attention to the pain. Wallowing in feelings of hate and anger, riddled with flashes of self-hatred, Estel remained prone, face-down on his bed.  
  
After a while, time was fluid and he knew not how long, he heard some small commotion outside his door. Soft footsteps, followed by heavier ones. "Leave Estel alone for a while," Estel heard Elrohir say.  
  
"Is he all right?" A second, softer voice asked. Feanor. Estel smiled in spite of himself. Finally the girl had taken to going about on her own. Elrohir's response penetrated his skull a bit later.  
  
"He's. . .a little upset right now. It'd be best if you gave him some space." No, Elrohir! Estel screamed in his head. Feanor would never take that the right way.  
  
"Did I do something wrong?" Her quivering voice inquired. Estel had been right, and Feanor blamed herself. He wished he could explain to her that she had done nothing wrong, but he couldn't--didn't.  
  
"No, no, of course not," Elrohir sounded detached. Of course, his mind was elsewhere. Feanor's soft footsteps as she walked away told Estel that she did not believe Elrohir. Elrohir didn't seem to notice. He did not knock on Estel's door, but whispered, "You know, don't you? Ada never meant to hurt you with these secrets. It was for your own protection."  
  
"Elrohir?"  
  
"Oh. Hi, Elladan."  
  
"Who were you talking to?"  
  
"Estel. Just pretending he could hear me. Saying the things he needs to know." The twins walked off together. Estel's tears came anew: it was true, it was all true, and the twins had known it all along.  
  
*****  
  
"Honestly, what is it that connects you to that human boy?" Arwen asked. "Why do you mope so simply because he shuts his door?"  
  
"He's our brother," Elladan said. Elladan and Elrohir often said "our", referring to both of them at once. Arwen simply nodded and scoffed. "We love him as a brother. He's family."  
  
Arwen sighed and continued plaiting her hair. She knew how shallow she must have seemed to her brothers. She, however, knew the hurt of loving a mortal. She didn't want that for Elladan and Elrohir. "He's stupid."  
  
"Leave him be, Arwen. He is good at heart, and he tries," Elrohir said, then, realizing how much of an excuse that was, he added, "he has skill with a sword and a tongue for Elvish."  
  
"Very well, I care not," she shrugged it off as she would a flea. Yet something strung inside of her. Could it be she enjoyed his company?  
  
*****  
  
Estel finally got himself up. He scrubbed his face until it was bright pink to remove any sign of his tears. That outburst had been uncalled-for, far too young for his sixteen years. He wondered what had brought it on, but in truth knew.  
  
Normally, he would need to clear his head after crying. Most of the time after he cried--which was almost never--he went for a long, long walk, sometimes overnight. Elrond had never liked that much. On this night, he simply washed his face and prepared to deny everything. He had Feanor to worry about, she would be as shy, timid, and lost as a mouse in a house of cats if he wasn't there. Again, his own need to protect her startled him.  
  
All dressed up, Estel hardly knew Feanor. He noticed how she had gained enough weight so she looked maybe a bit skinny, but pretty average. Her cheeks were pink--probably Arwen's doing--and gave her a lively look. Her lips still pouted naturally, but seeing Estel she smiled.  
  
"It all feels so funny," she said, "being dressed up like this. I feel like a doll." This meant quite a bit to Estel. Feanor hadn't expressed any emotions at first, but now she was beginning to open up to him.  
  
Estel laughed. "Arwen does that to people, it seems. She means well." He hoped she did, anyway. "Come, we must go greet these people."  
  
"Who are they?"  
  
"Denethor, steward of Gondor, and his two sons."  
  
"D-Denethor?" Her voice broke and shook. Estel looked at her, worried.  
  
"Is everything--"  
  
"Fine, everything's just fine." But Estel knew better. He didn't say anything--he had learned to keep his jaw shut--but he was careful to note anything she did differently.  
  
*****  
  
Feanor was nervous about seeing Denethor and his sons--Boromir and Faramir, she knew their names were. No matter how many times she told Estel he had never met them, he didn't believe her. That was just as well.  
  
All throughout the feast Estel and Feanor kept quiet. Estel stole glances at Feanor when he thought she wasn't looking, and noticed that she trembled and stared hard at her food. He hardly heard anything the boys said, until Faramir asked, "Do I know you from somewhere?"  
  
Feanor shook her head softly. "I can't imagine where," she answered. Estel sensed her fear, but didn't mention it. Feanor didn't speak at all the rest of the evening and dashed out at the first chance she got.  
  
*****  
  
It was impossible to shake Faramir and Boromir. The younger wasn't so bad, he usually just sat and watched whatever was going on. Boromir, however, really got on Estel's nerves. He always wanted to participate, not in a friendly manner but in the manner of a bored child.  
  
"Estel," Feanor said, almost pleading, laying a hand on his arm to keep him from doing anything brash. He relaxed his muscles as best he could. Finally he let out a breath and agreed to let Boromir spar with them. He went over to get a sword for Boromir.  
  
"Listen to me," he said, quiet enough so Feanor wouldn't hear, "go easy on the girl. Don't draw her blood. Do you understand? Don't cut her skin. This is practice, not battle." Boromir nodded, but Estel didn't believe his nod. The two headed back to where Feanor was; she was practicing thrusts and twists with the blade.  
  
The three sparred. They all took a few hits, but no blood was drawn. It was like an elaborate dance, graceful and practiced. They all knew the steps, but not the order of the steps. Boromir broke rank first, he slammed the flat of his blade hard into Feanor's side. She doubled over.  
  
"Are you okay?" Estel asked.  
  
"Yeah, I'll be all right," she said, drawing up to her full height. Estel signaled to Boromir to let up. Not ten minutes later, Boromir slashed across the back of Feanor's shoulder. Blood flowed, and the lacings came undone on her tunic. Estel looked angrily to Boromir. "Estel?"  
  
"Sorry," he said meekly.  
  
"Get out of here. Just go." Boromir and Faramir trod out of the room. Estel turned to Feanor. "I'm going to look at it, but I'll need to cut your tunic off to do so," he said. She whimpered and drew away. "Come on, you're hurt!" She stood still. Slicing at her tunic, he managed to pull it off her in five pieces.  
  
Feanor helped him some-what, but for the most part just shivered. When he finally got the tunic off, Estel held a towel to the skin, especially where the blood was heaviest. Feanor drew in air sharply, as if he slightest touch hurt her. When the blood was mopped up, Estel pulled off the towel to bind the wound. He hardly managed to stifle a gasp.  
  
Horrified, he wound cotton around the broken skin. When he had finished, Feanor turned to him. For the first time she looked him in the eye. She saw his horror, and adopted a look of her own. "Feanor. . .?"  
  
She turned away and ran.  
  
*****  
  
Estel hardly spoke for many hours. He had to endure another meal among the company of Denethor and his sons, and took no notice of anything but Feanor's absence. His eyes stayed open, for even one second's darkness and he would see again. . .  
  
He shuddered at the thought. Suddenly a comment made by Denethor caught his attention, and he listened to the discussion around him. Elrond and Denethor seemed to be discussing politics. "It seems that law would put many people out of a job," Elrond said levelly.  
  
"Hard decisions must be made. If there is no king of Gondor, it is my place to make them," Denethor countered with unnecessary conviction.  
  
"Was there no other way? Perhaps to instead pass a bill to--"  
  
"Do you wish to tell me how to rule? No one tells me how to rule my land!" Denethor abruptly cut off Elladan.  
  
"Elladan meant no offense," Elrond said. Elladan blushed and mumbled something in concurrance.  
  
"What of Aragorn?" Estel asked quietly, but not so quietly that it escaped the ears of Elrond and Denethor--and everyone else. All eyes on him, he tried not to freeze up. Denethor looked angry as a dragon, Elladan and Elrohir looked amused, and Elrond looked somewhat calm yet suspicious.  
  
"Estel? Is there something you wish to say?" Elrond asked, so as to stop Denethor from yelling at the boy.  
  
"What of Aragorn, Denethor?" Estel asked, choked up.  
  
"What of him? Arathorn was no great ruler, nor a great mine. His son would have most likely driven the city to ruin, only he died with his father, and no wasted souls there--"  
  
"SHUT UP!" Estel hadn't even realized it before he had jumped to his feet, toppling his chair, and shouted. He feared, yes, that he would let the White City fall--but he would not tolerate other people, who didn't even know him, saying the same. And he certainly would not let them speak in such a way of his father. "You don't know him! You don't know Aragorn! You probably never knew Arathorn! You're just afraid that you can't live up to Arathorn--that Aragorn will come! You know he lives!"  
  
"How could a boy--" Denethor began, but Estel wasn't about to let him finish.  
  
"Because I am Aragorn! Because I was born to the name! Because I learn the history of our land, so one day I may rule it! Because I may never live up to my father but you may not either! I have not in fourteen years seen the White City, yet I know it has a beauty in. Not enough to change a world with, but enough to save it from such dogs." He wept as he finished, not at all ashamed now. Until, that is, he turned to see Feanor watching him.  
  
Great waves of humility swept him. When things happened. . .like what he presumed had happened with Feanor. . .how could he defend those things? How could he claim the throne of Gondor to be rightfully his when he knew his rule would ruin the place? New tears swept him. Feanor broke their deadly embrace and ran.  
  
"Oh, Estel," Elrond said softly. Estel shivered, then shook, then turned and ran. 


	6. We All Fall Down

Disclaimer: I own nothing.  
  
Hey, did anyone catch my tribute to Arthur Miller's John Proctor in the last chapter?  
  
"How can we feel so alike yet be so different?"  
  
--Stellaluna  
  
"His mother was a votress of my order  
  
And for her sake do I rear up her boy  
  
And for her sake I will not part with him."  
  
--Shakespeare, A Midsummer Night's Dream  
  
Emmithar: Disappointment? One of these days we must swap philosophies. Heh, yes Elladan is joking. He wouldn't skin his brother. Hope your Japan trip works out! Estel isn't in any better of a predicament than Feanor, I'm sorry to say. And Denethor does have something to do with Feanor, as this chapter says. Yeah, I'm not a big fan of Boromir either--I mean, he was an okay guy but he had n respect for the ring. I guess in contrast to Aragorn he really was kinda stupid. Will she ever look on Estel the same way again? Maybe, maybe not. Think Stellaluna.  
  
Smeagol: Cliffie so hobbitses will read more, of course! And would you just go and get some dark chocolate? For Bob's sake, I'll get you some!! (Want me to? I might have access to some, tonight)  
  
Belothien: Why were you surprised when Estel asked that? Denethor was surprised, too! Yes, of course more!  
  
Jo March: I look forward to another review from you!  
  
Seriously, reviews really do make me happy. Just knowing that my stuff's not so crap that no one will read makes me euphoric--and makes me want to write more!  
  
*****  
  
Feanor ran hard, and didn't stop until she reach her room--well, the room she had been occupying, anyway. She clutched the doorknob so tightly at first that she was unable to open the door. With some amount of trial and error, she managed to open the door and get inside. She shut the door behind her, and slid the latch into place.  
  
Only the click of the latch made her finally relax. One hand open against the door, she managed to stay on her feet. She didn't think for a minute, just steadied her breathing. Then everything came flooding back to her.  
  
And then the tears came.  
  
Tears, hot and salty drops of sorrow, just like Estel's, dripped from her eyes. Like Estel's, they made her weak. The hand on the door trembled, then let up as she curled to the floor. Her hands naturally went up to her neck in a protective stance as ceaseless tears flowed. Like Estel's they wiped all thoughts from her head. Like Etel's tears that she did not know about.  
  
After a time, Feanor's rational mind took over. Her hands flew up to her eyes to rid them of tears. She stood on shaking legs, as a new-born fawn might. Her tears stayed at bay while she did this.  
  
And then the thoughts came.  
  
Estel would hate her now, he had no reason to have anything to do with her. He had been the first person in years that she had really trusted, really liked. He had accepted her for who she was. He had looked out for her and protected her, and stood up for her. He had taught her to read and write, and wield a blade. Yet he was a king's son and, that king now dead, a king himself. He would have nothing to do with her.  
  
But there were exceptions to every rule. Elrond, for example, had known all along what she was and hadn't once acted as though he thought less of her for it. But what about Arwen? Arwen, who was willing to save her life, then shut her out. Would Estel learn from Arwen? Oh, why bother, she thought, he probably already hates me.  
  
But the tears that came she choked back. She would not cry over the loss of Estel's friendship, she would NOT. There was something far more important than tears, more important even than Estel--Faramir. For Faramir had recognized her that night, she knew he had. She had seen it in his eye. Now she had to leave, there was no choice. Faramir would make her go back.  
  
But Faramir had always been kind to her. He had taken her to a healer many times, when she was so hurt she could not go herself. He had done everything in his power to make her life easier. But he had grown up in such society that he would never let her get away. She had to leave, she would not endure that life again. Having tasted freedom, she would not go back to being a bound soul. She had to leave. There were three closed options: Lothlorien, for Galadriel would send her to Elrond, Rivendell, for once Faramir told Elrond he would send her back to Gondor, and, of course, Gondor itself.  
  
*****  
  
Estel had also run right to his room. He had not locked the door, so sure that no one would come after him. After all, Feanor was upset--his fault-- and everyone else had no reason to care. Elrond wouldn't care, it wasn't like he was Estel's father, and he had lied to Estel all those years, and Elladan and Elrohir had lied, too. Arwen was just a generally cold person. Denethor and Boromir would probably laugh at him, and Faramir--who seemed pretty okay--would never move without his father's permission.  
  
So sure of himself, Estel could still not stop the tears. He cried for the loss of Feanor, who would not accept him as a king. He cried because he now had no father, no brothers, and no home. He cried because he had lost everything. He cried because he had, in effect, taken up the post he swore to deny. He cried because he hated himself.  
  
Finally, his tears stopped. He did nothing to any affectiveness, he just sat on his bed and stared off into space. His thoughts stopped, and he was as death. Cold with hatred.  
  
*****  
  
Faramir had known as soon as he saw Feanor who she was. All along, he had known that he knew her, that her name was not Feanor, but he couldn't figure out who she really was. Now he knew, she was not called Feanor but she was called Chandra.  
  
As his father argued with Lord Elrond, Faramir tried to figure out how to speak with the girl. Denethor would demand an explanation, which Faramir was not willing to provide. Faramir could most likely slip away later, but Boromir would tell--he always did, stupid Boromir. Faramir wasn't sure how, but he had some conviction in him. He would see the girl that night.  
  
*****  
  
Elrond did not call out to Estel as Estel fled the room, much as he wanted to. Instead, he turned to Denethor, who was red with anger. Denethor, as Elrond had suspected he would, demanded to know if "that boy" really was Aragorn and what Elrond meant by concealing him.  
  
"Yes, he is Aragorn. I was asked by his mother, in the event of his father's death, to raise the boy. I conceal him for his own protection. Surely you know of the faction against him?" It was true, for a time there was a faction in Gondor--headed by Denethor--against Aragorn. Denethor could neither admit to nor deny knowledge of its existence. He simply left. His sons followed him.  
  
"How did Estel know?" Elrond asked Arwen, Elladan, and Elrohir. They were some of the only ones who knew. Elrond did not think one of them had actually told Estel, but he liked to be sure of things.  
  
"I didn't tell him. I've hardly spoken to him," Arwen responded, as though it were obvious she hadn't spoken to him.  
  
"I. . ." Elrohir began, then stopped. Elrond was surprised. He hadn't thought one of them honestly would've said anything. Well, maybe Arwen, but certainly not the boys. Elladan looked at Elrohir, then inclined his head slightly. "We didn't tell him," Elrohir said, "but I knew. He was different- -the way he walked and spoke, sort of. He had changed."  
  
Elrond nodded, pleased to hear that no one had told Estel. But then if no one had told him, how did he know? While he was pondering this, Elladan spoke up. "That night, remember? The night before the girl came, he was in your study. He apologized for something."  
  
It had to be so. There was no other explanation. Elrond went to talk to Estel--Eru only knew what conclusions the boy had drawn. When he knocked on Estel's door, it slid open. He did not take this to mean he could go in, he knew Estel better than that. "Estel?"  
  
*****  
  
Estel immediately stopped feeling angry. Instead, he felt sorry for all the angry things he had thought against Elrond. How could he have thought those things? Elrond had raised him, hadn't cared that he wasn't an elf. What had possessed him to think such hurtful things?  
  
Now Estel knew what he had to do. It was time for him to grow up. He couldn't act like a child anymore. He couldn't run crying from a bad situation. He had to deal with it. He had to learn from the examples set by his father. What Arathorn had done in his time as king had greatly benefited Gondor. What Elrond had done had greatly benefited all of Middle- Earth. What was Estel to do? Something. He had to do something. "Come in," he called, sure he was ready to face anything.  
  
*****  
  
Faramir paused. Once his brother had fallen asleep, he had slipped away. Now, outside Chandra's door, he paused. Should he knock? Would it be right to talk to her after the way his family had treated her? He had done his best but had it been enough? Unsure, he lowered his hand--accidently knocking in the process.  
  
"Chandra," he called softly. She heard. She was about to leave when she heard her name, spoken softly. For all the times he had been nice to her, she would stay. She would stay some extra minutes and talk to Faramir. Then she would run like the wind. 


	7. Picking up the pieces

Disclaimer: I own nothing.  
  
Smeagol: Of course I'm not nice. What did you expect? Anyway, suspense means people read the next chapter.  
  
Jo March: Yay! I'm glad you found the story again. No, I haven't actually said yet what happened to Feanor/Chandra. As for learning to love each other, it isn't really something they learn, it just happens. Maybe just a bit of romance later on?  
  
Emmithar: Maybe Estel will save her, maybe not. I mean, neither of them is so well off right now. If you dislike Boromir, you won't mind the way I portray him in this chapter. I did read Carrie's stories, as you already know. Now I'm all indignant.  
  
To everyone: Thanks for reviewing if you did, please do if you didn't. Also, I did not portray Boromir very favourably in this chapter so. . .sorry. I needed something to happen.  
  
".make me want to cry  
  
I close my eyes  
  
When I go to bed and  
  
I dream of angels who  
  
Make me smile  
  
I feel better  
  
When I hear them say  
  
Everything will be  
  
Wonderful someday."  
  
--Everclear, "Wonderful"  
  
*****  
  
Feanor/Chandra paused with her hand on the lock. Could see do this? She knew the tears from earlier were still there, itching to be cried, itching to come out. Could she tell Faramir namarie and be gone? It was unlikely, she knew, but a thought in the back of her mind told her she owed it to him. Indeed, she did. With unnecessary force, she slammed back the lock and flung open the door. Faramir stood before her.  
  
"Chandra, I should have known it was you."  
  
"I suppose you have told your father and brother?" Feanor/Chandra asked with a raised eyebrow.  
  
"No," Faramir responded. "I did not tell them. I'm not stupid. I know that you don't want to return. You left--illegally, but if you were happy you would not have gone. I cannot imagine anyone being happy with that life."  
  
"You are brighter than you let on, Faramir," Feanor/Chandra observed. Then again, the quarts of her blood that had washed over his arms as he carried her body to the healers time and time again had probably taught him something. "I am leaving tonight, Faramir. Now that Estel knows, I cannot stay. I am not going back."  
  
"Very well. Good luck." Faramir could think of no other words. He shifted uncomfortably. "I have to get back. If they notice I'm missing, there will be too many questions."  
  
"Namarie, Faramir. Good luck to you, and the happiest of lives." The two shared an awkward hug, both knowing that that short hug broke a million rules. When the released each other, Feanor/Chandra watched Faramir leave, then turned to leave. To her dismay, she had some regret. Quickly she guarded herself. If she let herself miss Faramir at all, she would begin to miss Estel and even the twins, who were kind although the acted like they were afraid she would break like a doll.  
  
Shaking her head hard, Feanor/Chandra pulled herself onto a dresser. She had been short and small to begin with, but with proper nutrition she was beginning to grow, and her ribs were less. . .outlined beneath her clothes. She had developed some muscle as well, so though it was not incredibly difficult hauling herself onto the dresser was odd. Once up, she pushed open a window and stuck her head out. It was a matter of metres to the ground, maybe seven or eight. She would have to climb down from a tree, whose branches often hit the window on windy nights. Without a second thought, she reached for the branch.  
  
*****  
  
"What is wrong with that boy?" Arwen asked.  
  
"You shouldn't be so hard on him," Elrohir said.  
  
"Estel's a good person, Arwen. I don't know why you're so hard on him. He never did anything to you," Elladan observed. The three had left the hall since their father had gone to speak with Estel, but had not bothered to part ways. Arwen stood in a dignified manner by the door to the twins' room. Elladan and Elrohir sat side by side on Elladan's bed.  
  
"He's mortal, that's enough," Arwen sniffed. The twins traded a look. "Oh, it isn't that! Mortals just have no respect for anything. They destroy and destroy and then die without learning that some things ought to be fixed." She crossed her arms over her chest. The three siblings remained silent for a while.  
  
"Do you think he's all right?" Elladan asked Elrohir softly. Arwen didn't bother making any nasty comments. She heard the strain in her brother's voice.  
  
"He will be, Elladan." Elladan nodded, but looked downcast. Elrohir reached out and put an arm around Elladan's shoulders. "Don't worry," he said, although both Elladan and Elrohir did. Estel may not have been an Elf, but he felt like family to them--in a lot of ways, more so than Arwen.  
  
"He--he'll be just fine," Arwen said, her voice cracking. The boys looked up. Her voice was sincere, no sarcasm and no sneer. Her face betrayed her, showing true care for the boy. Small tears pricked her eyes, but she tried to blink them back.  
  
"Arwen," Elladan said softly, walking over to her. He embraced her, feeling for the first time in a long time that she was truly his sister.  
  
*****  
  
"You thought I wouldn't notice, didn't you?" Faramir jumped. He had not noticed his brother hiding in the corners of the room. "So, where were you then?"  
  
"None of your business, Boromir," Faramir replied. Though Boromir was a bully, Faramir would stand up to him for Chandra.  
  
"Is it Father's business?"  
  
"Boromir, don't!"  
  
"But I want to know, dear brother. If you would but tell me," he said in an oily voice, putting an arm around Faramir's shoulders. That arm, however, did not have the same feeling of comfort as Elrohir's had to Elladan.  
  
"No." Faramir didn't know he could speak so forcefully. Boromir didn't, either, and felt it time to remind the other who was the little one here. With a hard shove he knocked Faramir to the ground. Faramir knew what was coming, and winced as the kick caught him. "Stop it!"  
  
"Tell me!" Boromir demanded, pinning his brother to the ground with his knees. Faramir wheezed, struggling to breath over the weight of his brother. Boromir giggled cruelly. "Tell!" Faramir was seeing spots as he choked out the words.  
  
"Feanor!" Faramir spluttered. His heart sunk. He hadn't even meant to say it, but Boromir had hurt him. Immediately the pressure was lifted, and Faramir drew in a deep breath. "I was seeing Feanor."  
  
"Tell me more."  
  
"She's Chandra."  
  
*****  
  
More than anyone else, Estel direly needed a hug. He didn't ask for one, however, tempted though he was. He simply stood, ready to talk to Elrond as an adult. He would not cry or become emotional. He had, if accidently, referred to himself as Aragorn--and that meant he could no longer be Estel. Elrond, much expecting Estel to be quite the same, waited for questions.  
  
"I suppose you want to know why I never told you before."  
  
"Yes," Aragorn said.  
  
"It was for your own protection. Your mother wanted you to be safe, that was why she brought you here after your father was slain by a band of orcs. I would have told you when you were ready."  
  
Aragorn only nodded. Neither had much to say, nor knew how to say what they were thinking. Elrond looked at his son, a boy of only sixteen years, black hair framing a thin face, gray eyes serious behind dark lashes. "Don't look at me like that."  
  
"Like what?"  
  
"Like I'm your son. I'm not your son, I never was."  
  
"Estel--"  
  
"I am not Estel!" He still had his fears, still believed he would drive Gondor to destruction. He was no hope, he had no hope. He was a thief of hope. To call him that was an insult. Elrond lightly rested a hand on Aragorn's shoulder, but the boy drew sharply back. "I am not Estel," he said in a low voice, "and I am not your son."  
  
"You are though. It does not matter whose blood is in your veins. What matters is in your heart."  
  
"I--my heart. . ." it dawned on him that he did belong in Imladris. Elrond had never treated him any differently than Elladan or Elrohir, and Aragorn had never even met Arathorn. It felt as though a weight had been lifted off Estel's chest. He sighed with relief, then remembered something. "Feanor," he said, rushing out of his room. 


	8. Gluing everything back into place

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Well, I do have a copy of the book and just about every magazine that even TALKS about the new TTT movie, but other than that. . .  
  
Kawaii BlueBear: Elrond doesn't like your cheerleader impressions, sorry! And Faramir appreciates your hug.  
  
Emmithar: Yay, long review! **does happy dance, aka the time warp** I highly doubt I'm smarter than you. If you notice the right stuff, you could figure out what was up with Feanor, there's every spoiler in there! I'll point them all out next chapter. I can't answer about the illegal stuff, seeing as that would give it away an' all. Please don't mention dead stuff!! I'm still crying over the rat my kitty brought into my room last night. . .oh yay!! You figured it out! Three cheers for Emmithar! I'm not even going to bother about the two "getting hitched", as you put it. Maybe falling in love, but I mean we're talking about people not U-hauls and pickup trucks! Maybe she did need a gag, but there's a reason Arwen's so anti-mortal. I might write that story, actually. . .Faramir didn't betray her. He likes his life, and the words just. . .happened. Like his subconscious. But it wasn't a real betrayal. That would be like saying "well, they burned you, tortured you and all, but you still admitted the code so it's treason". Don't give him to the orcs! **hugs Faramir** "Don't worry, Faramir, I won't let the evil author hurt you." **glares at Emmithar** And at last SOMEONE hugged Estel, he really did need a hug. Yes, indeed Fanor means "spirit of fire"--Arwen told Estel that in the second chapter. Feanor doesn't need saving. Well, not literally of fatally or anything. Namarie!  
  
Smeagol: Hey hey hey! Do not kill my characters when they still have parts to play! Once Boromir's part is over with, after Emmithar throws him to the orcs, you can disect what is left of him in the name of science. Okay? Faramir didn't have the strength to kick his brother "there" as he had no oxygen. You oughta stop teasing Miki about that. I mean, he'll probably run you over with his yacht (remember?). Forgiven. And you may not like this chapter, Arwen says something nice!  
  
Elmo the Mallard: K. . .glad you liked it  
  
Jo March: They said that on one of the TV spots for The Mummy Returns. Did you quote it intentionally?  
  
Fool of a Took: Yes, Arwen is supposed to like Estel. But that doesn't require love at first sight. . .okay, supermarket romance-novel cliché. Big deal. Well, they don't seem whiny to me. Oh, great, my characters are unhappy and you call it "very good". People are so strange (I'm just kidding, by the way). You know, Feanor isn't in serious trouble. I mean, she's running away, but she's in no mortal peril. And thank you for the command that I write more ASAP, while it was a bit annoying it's nice to know when people enjoy the story.  
  
"Blackbird singing in the dead of night  
  
Take these broken wings and learn to fly."  
  
--The Beatles, Blackbird  
  
*****  
  
Feanor/Chandra wrapped her arms around the branch, then let her legs swing out. She scrambled up onto the branch, securely footed, then carefully but hastily balanced her way to the trunk. She got down on her knees, then lowered herself to the next branch. It was dark out, and her progress was slow. When her feet hit soil, she visibly relaxed.  
  
"Chandra!" Someone called her name, not loudly but as loudly as they dared. She paused, not sure if she should hide, run, or stay. "Please wait!" It was Faramir. She waited for him. When he caught up to her, he was panting. She knew something was wrong. "I didn't mean it! I never meant it, Chandra, you must believe--"  
  
"What's happened, Faramir? What's going on?" She was worried, she knew him and she knew that if he was acting this way there was surely something amiss--something dangerous, something very bad. She had to know what it was.  
  
"I told Boromir," Faramir admitted. I never meant it, I swear to you, Chandra, but he made me! He'd've killed me, you don't know him--"  
  
Anger flared up inside Chandra, a sense of betrayal, but only moments later it was squelched. It wasn't Faramir's fault. She put a hand on his shoulder. "It's all right, Faramir. I do know." Indeed, she had seen the young boy many times abused at the hands of his brother. The bigger of the two would have his way. Faramir breathed a sigh of relief.  
  
"He'll have my skin for this moment, but I am glad I told you."  
  
"You must come with me, Faramir!" What was wrong with her? No cares, she reminded herself, no cares meant no heartbreak. But the words were out, and it would be wrong to take them back. "Come now, and let us not look back."  
  
Faramir struggled to decide. He cared very much for Chandra, she had always been kind and done what she could for him. Life with his brother was awful, he had the scars to prove that. "All right. Let's go."  
  
*****  
  
"Father!" Boromir exclaimed, throwing open the door to Denethor's quarters. "I must speak with you!"  
  
"What could be so urgent, my son?" Denethor questioned calmly. Boromir often became excited over small matters. This might easily be a new sword trick.  
  
"Do you recall Chandra?" Boromir watched his father's absent expression as the man thought for a moment. It was clear he did not remember. "She ran away a few months ago, she--"  
  
"Oh, yes, her! What of her?"  
  
"She is here. In Rivendell, in the house of Elrond."  
  
"What!" The man was incensed, and rose immediately to speak with the Elven lord. Boromir only grinned.  
  
*****  
  
Estel cursed himself. How could he have forgotten her shock, her tears? Was he that self-absorbed? He didn't have time for those thoughts, and shoved them from his mind as he rushed down corridors. Ahead of him, Feanor's door opened with the wind. He drew in a sharp breath, afraid of why that wind was there. Lying his palm flat on the door, his fears were realized.  
  
"Oh, no," he moaned softly. She had been upset and she had run. He had seen her pain, and he had forgotten it with his own. Now he would pay the price for it. "I have to find her," he said to himself.  
  
Not for nothing was Estel one of the Rangers of the north. Mere minutes took him to the ground outside Feanor's window. Glancing about him, he saw that her only escape route could've been the tree. Small footsteps around the base of the plant proved his suspicions correct. Not far off, there was a convergence. Feanor wasn't alone when she headed off again.  
  
*****  
  
"So, what about Estel?"  
  
"Estel. . ." Feanor/Chandra thought about him. "What about him?"  
  
"You don't miss him?" Faramir asked. He hadn't spoken since they headed out, and it would have been fine with Feanor/Chandra if he didn't start now. She didn't mind, though, knowing he would be silent when he was ready to be alone with his thoughts.  
  
"Estel was the first person who was nice to me in my entire life--after you, of course. He knew about what I am--what I **was**" she corrected before going on, "and he didn't treat me differently. Even though he's King of Gondor."  
  
"Then what's this running about?"  
  
"It's about you telling Boromir who I am." Faramir fell silent. Feanor/Chandra realized how bluntly she had spoken. "I'm sorry. That's the truth of it, though, and while I know it isn't your fault I cannot return. Oh, but I do miss him."  
  
"Miss who, Chandra?"  
  
"Estel. He. . .he cared about me. It didn't matter to him what I was or where I came from. Estel always protected me, with no reason to. He taught me how to read and write, and do sums. I never knew those things before, in fact I hardly even knew they existed. It's like he opened the world."  
  
*****  
  
"What do you mean by this?" Denethor demanded. Elrond suppressed a sigh. The human was red-faced, probably in anger but possibly in drink.  
  
"Mean by what?"  
  
"Concealing that girl!" Denethor roared. He really must be drunk, Elrond decided.  
  
"If you speak of Estel--"  
  
"I speak of her! You had a name for the wretch--Feanor, something like that. What do you mean by keeping her here?"  
  
"Feanor was brought to me for medical reasons, she is here in recovery. I never concealed her, no one ever asked after her."  
  
"Do you have any idea who that child is?"  
  
"Of course," Elrond replied, "and seeing as you seem to know so much it would be best if she were kept away from you."  
  
Denethor shook with wordless anger. When he could finally speak again, he answered, "Where's my son then? Faramir went to see her and hasn't come back since. What has she--or you--done with my boy?"  
  
"Probably simply spoken to him. Estel is with Feanor now, he had something he wanted to say to her."  
  
"What did he wish to say?"  
  
"What business of mine is that?"  
  
"That girl is mine and anything having to do with her is my business!"  
  
"Gondor has no laws against such practices? Last I was there, they did. Perhaps you were unaware?" Denethor had no response to this. "What's so important about this girl to you? Surely you are not afraid that she would tell of you unlawful actions--"  
  
"She isn't lawful either, leaving like that!"  
  
"What is it you want with that girl?"  
  
Denethor curled his fists. He clenched his teeth. And then he answered truthfully.  
  
*****  
  
". . .opened the world." Estel paused. He had no idea Feanor felt that way. In his mind, he was providing some basis for education, and he never taught her sums--she taught him! If she knew that, whatever was wrong with her or had happened, he didn't care, what would she say? Would she return to Rivendell?  
  
"You make him out to be a saint."  
  
"To me, he was. I will miss him for the rest of my life, I suppose. Now that he knows who I am and I know who he is, he will not accept me."  
  
"Feanor!" Estel stepped up to the two. Faramir looked questioningly to Feanor, who shook her head. "Please wait. Don't miss me for the rest of your life. I do not care who you are."  
  
"What are you doing out here, Estel?" Feanor asked.  
  
"Stopping you from doing something you'll regret." Estel shrugged.  
  
"Why are you always protecting me?" she asked. "I can protect myself sometimes."  
  
"I feel another loyalty. Not to you, but to someone else. Someone wants you to be protected." Estel hadn't thought about those words. He didn't even know who that somebody was. "Just come back, and we can work everything out. It'll all be okay."  
  
Feanor looked to Faramir, who nodded. "All right Estel. Let's go back." She didn't know why, but she trusted him and wanted to do something for him. He wanted so badly for her to go back, so she would go back. She would turn around and face what was ahead. As if he knew what she was thinking, Estel Estel squeezed her shoulder reassuringly.  
  
"I'll be there to face it with you."  
  
*****  
  
The knock on the twins' door brought all three siblings back to reality. They looked for one to the other, neither wanting to leave the comfort of knowing they were all there for each other. (a/n: if that made any sense) "I'll go," Arwen said. They all knew it was probably their ada, so there was no real point not answering. Arwen got up and opened the door, then quietly left the room.  
  
"Elladan? Elrohir?" The two looked up. "I really wanted to apologize for what's happened recently and--and how I've acted." Now that Faramir had gone off to find his brother and Feanor had fallen into a state of repose-- Estel would never admit it, but she looked sweet when she slept--there were a few things that needed clearing up. "For one, yelling at you, Elladan, when you were asking what was wrong. Elrohir, for ignoring you when you told me it was all okay."  
  
"You heard?" Elrohir asked, worried. It was his fault then--Estel hadn't known, and when Elrohir said all those dumb things Estel decided to find out what he meant--  
  
"I knew already, Elrohir. I heard what you said, and if I hadn't been so hardened and stupid it would have meant something to me--something more than I can really explain." The twins glanced at each other.  
  
"Estel, c'mere a minute," Elladan said. Estel obeyed, crossing the room slowly to stand before his brother. "What beag could stay mad at you?" Elladan asked, hugging Estel, close to suffocating him.  
  
"I--I can't breathe. . ." Estel's body went limp.  
  
"Quit the act, we've seen it a million times," Elrohir said. Estel didn't respond. "Estel? Es-tel?" The two glanced at each other. Sure, Estel could keep his eyes closed, "But can he keep his mouth closed?" Unfortunately for the highly ticklish human, he could not.  
  
*****  
  
Arwen listened to the boys' laughter as she stared wistfully out the window. Why did she have to be sent away to Lothlorien when Estel came? Why had she not been allowed the fun the twins had? She had been that carefree, once, before Estel came. She still could be, if Galadriel hadn't been so. . .  
  
"It may be difficult to see, but she never meant to hurt you."  
  
Arwen turned around, and shook her head. "I know, Ada. I missed you and the boys in Lothlorien. I never understood why I had to go."  
  
"Though she rarely reveals what she has seen, everything Galadriel does is for the best."  
  
"I know. Where have you been all this night? Has Denethor's ranting been that interesting?"  
  
Elrond ignored Arwen's sarcasm. "Business things. No, Denethor's rant was not at all interesting." He would've said more, but was cut off by a shriek from the other room.  
  
"I really am going to pass out this time!" Estel screamed through laughter and giggles.  
  
"You had better go make sure they don't kill him," Arwen said.  
  
"Unfortunately, that is so. Arwen, what's bothering you?"  
  
"The death of a brother," she answered. Elrond didn't ask further, he knew she'd say what she needed to say. He didn't miss Arwen's reference, however, to Estel as a brother. 


	9. Every day is a winding road

Disclaimer: I wish I owned it! But I have seen The Two Towers, so in your face everyone who hasn't! Sorry, just wanted to gloat. . .  
  
Fool of a Took: I figured Estel needed to loosen up a bit. And there isn't much more to post after this chapter, you demanding little reviewer! Thanks for reading an' all.  
  
Emmithar: U-hauls and pick-ups, you used the phrase "getting hitched" which makes me think of U-hauls and pick-ups. You get to do any evil deeds you want to Boromir, before Smeagol, just after Estel (you will see what I mean in this chapter). I am just hardly twisting! This is only a tad alternate- universe. Okay, he meets Arwen a few years earlier. Big deal! It's not like I said that no orc could ever eat man-flesh or anything severe like that. Sorry, Mr. Tolkien! I'll tell you where you heard beag--I use it. A lot. It's one of my favourite insults. Smeagol made it up, long story, and now we (me, Smeagol, and our friends at school) use it to insult each other). Sorry this new chapter took so long. Writer's block plus physics test (D minus) equals lack of posts.  
  
*****  
  
"Estel. Estel, wake up. Estel wake up!" Someone shook his shoulder, hard. Estel moaned softly and turned over. Birds were singing, and light poured in through the window, penetrating his eyelids. Estel pulled the covers over his head. "Estel, up!" Feanor/Chandra pulled the covers off of him. Estel protested and rolled onto his back to face her.  
  
"What is it? Where am I?" He was completely disoriented.  
  
"You're in Elladan's bed. The boys decided you were too heavy to lug down the hall, apparently. But Estel, you have to listen to me: I can stay here. I can stay in Rivendell!" Feanor/Chandra seemed more excited than Estel though logical. Of course she could stay! "Lord Denethor has left, and his sons will be soon to follow."  
  
Estel rolled out of bed, sorely miscalculated and landed rather painfully on the floor. Feanor/Chandra giggled, then she reached out and pulled him to his feet. "You, dear friend, are not a morning person."  
  
"You didn't have to pull off the covers and throw me off the bed," Estel pointed out.  
  
"Me throw you? That's rich." Something had come over her. Estel could tell. Nothing was held back any longer, no part of her was concealed. He didn't need to protect her anymore. "I'm going to go and say farewell to Faramir. You should go find your brothers, they were looking for you. Something about breakfast." She had hardly finished the word when Estel was bounding out the door. She laughed.  
  
*****  
  
When one sees an object everyday, but lets their glance pass over it, one may often forget the object is there. If, for example, a postcard sat on your desk for ten years, you would become so accustomed to it being there that you might not even notice it. So it was with Feanor/Chandra and the sons of Denethor. So many times had she stood by, watching Boromir bully his little brother, that Boromir hardly noticed her anymore.  
  
Faramir could feel his chest being crushed. He felt the adrenaline rushing through his veins, propelling him to act, yet he was unable to so much as twitch. Boromir hardly even grinned. He just knelt, watching the air slowly drain out of his brother's lungs. "I don't see, little brother, why you refuse to simply give in. You know I'm stronger than you, and if I want to know, I will." Faramir couldn't even remember what Boromir wanted. His vision was fuzzing over.  
  
Chandra took a step forward, timidly. She had seen this happen tons of times. Yet before she had not been able to do a thing about it. Now it was up to her, Chandra, Feanor, to decide. She could let Faramir suffer, though he had always been there for her and helped her. She could let Boromir win simply for his strength, because he could hurt her as well. Her shoulders heaved as she considered this, knowing well what she had to do. One step, two, and she placed her hands on Boromir's shoulders and drew him to his feet.  
  
"Leave him alone!" she shouted.  
  
"Or you'll what?" Boromir taunted, throwing the girl off. She had been training in combat, at Estel's request and under his tutelage, but she was nowhere near as far along as Boromir was. He easily shoved her against a wall so hard she nearly passed out. "You think freedom means you have worth? Think again."  
  
But Feanor/Chandra's shout had accomplished more than a simple angering of one boy. The twins and Estel had heard the shout, and Estel tore off running. Elrond and Arwen as well had heard, and sought out the commotion. Estel was the only one to reach the room in time to hear Boromir say such things, but only Estel was quite enough. "Hey," he said, tapping Boromir on the shoulder. Boromir turned. Estel punched him in the jaw so hard, Boromir went reeling. "Don't ever, ever talk to my little sister like that again."  
  
"Estel," Elrond began, only having seen Estel hit Boromir.  
  
"No, Ada," Estel said, halting the lecture he knew he was in for. "Sometimes violence is the answer. And sometimes, it is right." He had spoken with such maturity and finality that even Elrond was speechless. Faramir, who had gotten to his feet, wondered if he should applaud Estel or help his brother. Estel crossed the room in five quick strides, helped Feanor/Chandra to her feet, and together the two left the room.  
  
"You called me your sister, Estel," Feanor/Chandra said.  
  
"The heart is what matters, not the blood, Feanor, and call me Aragorn."  
  
"You'd be surprised to learn, then, that you are my brother in blood as well? And my name is Chandra."  
  
*****  
  
Weeks had passed. Chandra had refused to speak again on her relationship to Aragorn, but no matter what was in their blood they developed a close-knit friendship. On one fateful day, the two were working on evening a score with Elladan and Elrohir, a small "accident" with a bucket of milk. . .  
  
"This stuff is pretty thick," Aragorn noted, dipping his fingertip into the black liquid.  
  
"It should be thick, but runny, and not at all grainy. That's good," Chandra said, stirring her own bowl. "This one's done, yours is pretty good, too. Come on then." The two slunk along an upper corridor, then lay belly-down peering through the railing.  
  
Elladan and Elrohir were smiling jovially as the walked along. Their discussion centered around apples, and the nutritional value--plus the sport they were good for. Aragorn and Chandra had to push their hands against their mouths to keep from laughing out loud. All at once the twins were beneath them.  
  
It was too good to be true. Chandra's mixture of crushed charcoal and water, in such meticulous measurements and exact consistencies, was a miracle. The twins dripped black goo, standing stricken and still. "Say, Elladan," Aragorn called down to him, "I don't think that's what Ada meant when he said to wash your hair!" Elladan returned a rather nasty comment.  
  
"I think now we run," Chandra said to Aragorn. "But I am afraid to get lost. Indeed, I did not think this through. Why do not I hide--"  
  
"No, it's running or death," Aragorn said, taking her hand. Together the two ran out, out, and away, Elladan and Elrohir in close pursuit. Tree branches lashed at their faces and roots at their feet. Chandra could not seem to stop laughing.  
  
"Gotcha!" Elrohir exclaimed, sweeping his little brother into his arms. Chandra halted immediately, and was equally caught by Elladan. "What now, Elladan?" The two shared a secret smile, and Elrohir tossed Aragorn into the river. Elladan motioned to copy, but Chandra clutched his arm tightly in fear.  
  
"You can't honestly not know how to swim!" exclaimed Elladan. Chandra turned red. "Well, no worries there." He set her down on the ground, safely. "Now, soon as you learn I am going to throw you into the river. Estel! You have to teach your friend here how to swim!" Aragorn spluttered out of the river.  
  
"Come on, Chandra." He offered his hand. "I'll teach you." She held back. "Trust me, Chandra. I would never hurt you." With a tiny step forward, she grasped his hand. Aragorn resisted the urge to flip her into the river. Instead, he taught her the strokes with the gentle kindness of a brother.  
  
*****  
  
Elrond and Arwen watched the boys and Chandra run off into the woods. Arwen smiled, nostalgic and wistful She remembered when she was that girl, and there was no Estel. Yet those days had gone, as had many in her Elven life. "Ada, Estel. . .has he got a girl?"  
  
"No, of course. . .Arwen?" Elrond asked suspiciously. He had answered automatically, but once the question had processed he wondered at its origins.  
  
"Only a question, Ada," Arwen answered, yet there was more daydream than nostalgia now in her gaze, which glided over the brothers of her blood. 'Maybe, some day,' she told herself.  
  
*****  
  
Hours passed, and the sun was high overhead. Chandra and Aragorn sat on the riverbank, drying off. "When I lived in Gondor," Chandra began quietly, "I was a slave."  
  
"What?" Aragorn immediately sat up. "You did not just say what I heard."  
  
"Indeed, I have said it. I was a slave. I do not see how you can doubt me, you have seen the scars on my back. I was born to a slave woman, and an unknown father. I was a bastard, and scorned by all, save one--Faramir--who would treat me like a human being. He kept me from my death many times. Gondor has anti-slavery laws, but there are ways around them. Basically the law goes that kin are property--daughters having lesser value, I have seen them sold on the black market. Children are used to barter. My own mother was hardly thirteen years old. It's sick, and passed off as an exchange program for education of children--but there is no one to lie to." There was a long silence. Finally, Aragorn answered her.  
  
"Why was Faramir so often there? It is the one thing I do not understand."  
  
"Why? Because his own father owned me. Oh, don't look so disgusted. It is only fitting that I was in a high household, given who my father was. I only learned recently. I would speak to him, but he was slain by orcs before I was even born." She looked off into the distance. Aragorn placed his hand on her shoulder for moral support.  
  
"Mine was slain by orcs as well."  
  
"They were one man."  
  
"That cannot be, you are twelve years old and I am into my sixteenth year." Even with his pathetic math skills, Aragorn could see the flaw in her math. "I was two when my father was slain--"  
  
"Two? Aye, and nay, two and eight months. I am thirteen years old. I do not claim this bloodline, make no mistake. I have no wish for it. It is Lord Elrond who has told me what is in my blood. Do you doubt his word?"  
  
Aragorn could not answer this. Finally, he wrapped Chandra in a hug. "Happy birthday, little sister." 


	10. Good night, sweet prince, and flights of...

**~*~** means dream/flashback  
  
Fool of a Took: I did not mean to insult anybody, my sincerest apologies! And you really didn't see it? I mean, I tried to hint it out. Is the whole sister thing a bit crazy? I know I'm corrupt for putting it in.  
  
Silent Night: Thanks for reading and taking the time to review. I e-mailed you, did you get it?  
  
Jo March: So, I guess you liked the story then. . .I'll do a sequel, though I'm not sure what to put in it. I was thinking an explanation of why Arwen dislikes mortals, or an action/adventure story for Aragorn and Chandra. Maybe a piece about Faramir. What do you think? Anyway, here's more though probably the last chapter for this story.  
  
Emmithar: Heh heh, I get to tomorrow for a second time, and I have to pay, but the first time I didn't! That's more than the Fellowship of the Ring soundtrack. But the Fellowship of the Ring soundtrack is largely instrumental, and the only chance I get to listen to music is in carpool, so I'll probably never hear all of it. Those two girls in my carpool are so noisy I just want to strangle them! Sorry. Ha-ha! I got such a nice grade on my Physics final--a thirty one per cent!!! And yet I have a B. . .that' luck if I've got any. I wouldn't even look at the paper, the boy ahead of me had to read the grade out loud I was so scared, and then I was euphoric about it. I know, I'm a freak. Sorry to discuss my grades, it was just kinda cool. That is a good phrase, much nicer than "insomniac". Why has Boromir got to face Legolas? Legolas isn't even in this story! Okay, yes, Boromir is all yours. Hey, go easy on Boromir! He saved Merry and Pippin, you know!  
  
*****  
  
"Ada, I have heard Feanor's story, yet for me there are still some holes," Aragorn said to Elrond.  
  
"Indeed?" Elrond asked, knowing well what they boy wanted and not fully willing to give him the information. Then again, if Chandra had told Estel-- Aragorn, Elrond told himself--of her past, then she trusted him, She would not mind a few details being added in here and there. "What holes in Chandra's story?"  
  
"Well, what happened to her most recently. I mean to say, when she left Gondor, how did she do it? How did she manage to slip out?" Asked Aragorn, curiosity getting the better of him and utterly destroying his coherency. Elrond's emphasis of the name had reminded Aragorn to call her Chandra, though he still called her Feanor on occasion.  
  
"For that story you shall have to ask the girl. Even I do not know, and I have no right knowing." Aragorn hardly managed to keep his jaw from dropping. How could Elrond not want to know? Elrond, however, perceived the young man's confusion, and explained, "When you have lived as long as I have, Estel, you know when the rest of the story is just not needed. For me, the story goes that she did escape or perhaps was set free, but it matters not how. I understand that this is a cold comfort or even irritating for you."  
  
Elrond was correct. His answer had given Aragorn no more grounding but less. He searched his mind, trying to find the proper phrasing for his next question. "But, surely her leaving was not legal--Denethor has implied as much. You would never break a law, not outwardly like that. Yet you are allowing Chandra to stay here, and I know Denethor would not have that be legal." He stopped speaking, satisfied with his phraseology.  
  
"Your question, Estel?"  
  
"Oh!" Exclaimed Aragorn. In all his careful wording, he had forgotten to ask a question. "I was wondering. . .I mean to say, seeing as. . .no. . ."  
  
"The reason Chandra has not returned to Gondor with Denethor and his sons is that she is no property of theirs. Law in Gondor allows only a slave's so wrongly entitled owner to free them. Unwilling to allow Chandra to suffer as much at the hands of them, I bought her. I sicken myself for calling myself owner of a being, yet I did this only to free her. It is up to her if she will stay here in Rivendell or go out to face the wide world alone. Though I must admit I swayed her decision towards Rivendell."  
  
"She will stay?" Nothing otherwise had occurred to Aragorn. The thought of her leaving astounded him. Where would she go? She was far too young, who would look after her? She hardly trusted anyone. "If she is going," said Aragorn with new resolve, "then so am I."  
  
Elrond's eyes shone with pride for his son. The boy stood, it seemed, taller than he had ever been before, and straighter. His face was set grimly, as if he knew already that he would stick by her through thick and thin, right or wrong. And in this pride Elrond felt an overwhelming sadness, knowing in his heart that the time was not too far off that his son would leave him, and ride with the Rangers, and lead them. Still proud, Elrond swallowed the tears in his throat and placed a hand on Aragorn's shoulder. "Not yet, Estel. Not quite yet."  
  
Aragorn searched Elrond's face, but could see no sign of the emotions the Elf held hidden away. But the flicker that had passed over Elrond's face, bringing with it raw pain and a look of incredible age, had passed by, and was gone. All Aragorn saw was the face of his Ada, the face he had seen a million times before, and nothing different to it. The moment had passed him by, though for Elrond it lasted an Age. Elrond took his hand from Aragorn's shoulder.  
  
"One last question, if I may," Aragorn ventured. Elrond nodded. "I felt something towards Chandra, a need to look out for her and protect her. Do you know why that was?"  
  
"This, again, is a question I cannot answer. I suggest you get some sleep. It is late, even," he added with a laughing glance at Aragorn's face, "for a boy of your age."  
  
Aragorn smiled with mock indigence. "Good night, Ada," he said, heading for the door.  
  
"Good night, Estel."  
  
*****  
  
Aragorn's tired feet did not take him to his own bed. Instead, he found himself outside the door to where he knew Chandra slept--or he hoped she slept. Worry overcame him, and he turned the doorknob. Stepping inside he saw that Chandra was asleep in bed. He relaxed for a moment. Aragorn turned and was about to leave the room, satisfied with his sister's peace.  
  
A soft moan stopped escaped Chandra's lips. Aragorn whirled. He realized that the muscles in her throat were taut, and the sound might have been a yell had she not been so tensed up. He walked slowly over to her, having seen these nightmares before. "Feanor," he whispered, half-coaxing, reminding her of the fire-spirit within her. "It's all right." She whimpered again, no longer the strong girl who had told him earlier of her enslavement without so much as a tear. She was a child now, and nothing more.  
  
Aragorn sat beside her on the bed, laying a hand on her back. She drew back from the touch, yet she reveled in it. "Shh, it's all right," he whispered. Still she struggled. He felt her muscles contract and twist about beneath his hand. Whatever nightmare she was having, it reduced her to being but a youngling. " A Elbereth Gilthoniel," Aragorn sang softly, a verse he had heard though he knew not where.  
  
"Silivren penna miriel,  
  
O menel aglar elenath!  
  
Na-chaered palan-diriel  
  
O galadhremmin ennorath,  
  
Fanuilos, le linnathon  
  
Nef aear si nef aearon!"  
  
By the end of the ballad or verse, whichever it was, she had calmed. Turning, she curled up against Aragorn. He decided against drawing away, at least for a little while. It was a comfort to him to have her close by, and he knew the warmth of a living being was a comfort to her.  
  
**~*~**  
  
"Listen to me, Aragorn. I am not abandoning you, my son. Your father is never coming back. I know this is hard for you to understand--by the Valar, I don't know if you understand any of this," a woman said. Her voice was soft and comfortable, maternal. Tears fell onto the face of the child in her arms. "I am leaving you here, in Rivendell. Your father was a great man, Aragorn, and let no one tell you different. He had only the weaknesses of a mortal, and he cannot be judged for this. Look after the other, for me if not for him. When and if ever you meet the other, look after her. Now be strong, my child. You are our last hope."  
  
**~*~**  
  
"Shh, Elladan, be quiet!" Elrohir hissed.  
  
"What is it?" Elladan whispered, tiptoeing up to his brother. A light smile adorned Elrohir's face, and his eyes were fixed loosely ahead.  
  
"Look." Elladan did. Aragorn had fallen asleep in Chandra's room. The younger girl had curled up to him at some point in the night, her head buried in his shoulder. Aragorn's arm was wrapped protectively around the small girl. He did not look as worried or fierce as he often did, even in sleep. Elladan's heart melted at the sight.  
  
Aragorn stirred. Groggily he looked around, unsure of where he was. When he realized, he gently pushed Chandra away from him so as not to disturb her as he stood up. She protested, then rolled onto her other side and sucked her thumb. Aragorn walked as quietly as possible over to the doorway where his brothers stood, smiling at him. "She was having a bad dream."  
  
"I know," Elrohir whispered back.  
  
"I didn't mean to fall asleep."  
  
"We know," Elladan replied, recalling the many nights he or his brother had fallen asleep beside Estel. "You were just the same."  
  
"Only, amazingly, cleaner," Elrohir joked. Aragorn smiled good-naturedly. Suddenly the twins turned their heads. Aragorn had not detected the minuscule sound that he suspected the two had heard, but he turned as well. Chandra rubbed her eyes as she sat up. She noticed the three in the doorway. She smiled.  
  
"Was I sleeping?" she asked. The boys laughed. Chandra just smiled more, then stood up and ran over to them. She hugged Aragorn so fiercely he would have fallen over if the twins had not steadied him. "I heard your voice in my dream, and then it wasn't so bad anymore," she said, like a child, and Aragorn remembered how young she had looked during the nightmare.  
  
Suddenly he understood what Elrond had said to him. The look on Chandra's face mixed youth and pain as he hoped never to see again. Aragorn knew without any doubts that she had been remembering some time from her childhood, a time she did not want to remember, and he knew why Elrond did not want to know more. After so many years, the smaller things stopped mattering, only the overall facts, the ones of result. And from then on, he vowed, he would not see that look again. "I promise you that much," he murmured to Chandra. Deep inside her she understood.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
I am considering a sequel. What do you all want? Action/adventure for Aragorn and Chandra? The story of why Arwen does not like mortals? A story about Faramir? You decide, I am but the author. . .BUT PLEASE TELL ME WHAT SORT OF SEQUEL YOU WOULD LIKE!! Thank you very much.  
  
Oh, and the verse Aragorn sings is n Many Meetings in The Fellowship of the Ring, it was the first Elven verse I came upon and I haven't the faintest clue what it means. 


End file.
